


Like ‘em dangerous, rough, occasionally bumpy in the forehead region

by coldflashwavebaby



Series: If the apocalypse comes, beep me [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Actual plot, Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, actual sexual content, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: When Barry stepped through the door of Saints, all eyes turned to him. Almost every vamp and demon in town recognized him by this point. They were all tensing, posturing, ready for a fight to break out and to get their chance at the Slayer.All but one.





	Like ‘em dangerous, rough, occasionally bumpy in the forehead region

Being the Slayer paid a heavy toll on Barry’s life. He hurt people he cared about more often than not, and he couldn’t even escape the life in his dreams. He spent the night after his visit to Rory tossing and turning, nightmares of memories he wanted to forget passing like a slideshow through his head.

 

_ He was in Joe’s house. It was three nights after Len lost his soul. Lisa came to the house to help them plot against him--even she was afraid of Leonard and what he could do. Earlier in the night, Leonard attacked the Ramon house, trying to kill Cisco to hurt Barry. Instead, he got Dante, Cisco’s older brother.  _

 

_ They were all gathered in the living room--Barry, Caitlin, Wells, Joe, Ronnie, Iris, and Lisa. So, when someone knocked on the door, he was instantly suspicious. Barry’s heart stopped when he opened the door to reveal the man he’d just watched Leonard murder not three hours before. _

__

_ “Dante!” Cisco joyfully ran for his brother, who stood in the doorway of the West House. Iris was the first to intercept him, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him back. _

__

_ “Cisco, that isn’t Dante!” She reminded him. “Leonard killed him, remember? He’s not your brother anymore.” _

__

_ The vampire at the door smiled reassuringly. “Francisco. It’s me. Invite me inside. Yes, I’m a vampire now, but surely you’ve met vampires who were good—like Lisa.” His eyes slid over to where the youngest Snart was standing with Caitlin, her fangs out and ready. “Invite me in, Francisco. I have news about Leonard that will help you stop him. Just invite me in.” _

__

_ Barry glanced back from his place at the door towards his best friend, and he knew that Cisco was so close to letting him in. This was his fault. Leonard turned Dante just to mess with them, to get back at him. To make them all suffer. _

__

_ He’d probably been hoping that Cisco would be the only one there when Dante found him, or that Cisco would be the one that answered the door and let him in. He turned away from his best friend, knowing what he had to do. _

__

_ “Barry.” He could hear his friend saying. “Barry, please don’t. We can save him. He won’t kill me—I can help him!” _

__

_ There was a scuffle, followed by the sound of heels running to where Iris was restraining Cisco, and he knew that Lisa was now helping hold him. Barry sighed. Sometimes, his job was about saving the world. Sometimes, it was rewarding and they all won, and no one got hurt. But sometimes, his job sucked, and it made him wish it wasn’t his place to make the right call. _

__

_ This was one of those days. Without a word, he kicked Dante out of the doorway and down the stairs of the West’s porch. He quickly jumped out after him, slamming the front door behind him.  _

_ He may have had to slay his best friend’s brother, but that didn’t mean he had to force Cisco to watch. _

  
  


Barry groaned in his sleep, his fingers winding in the sheets. 

  
  


_ It wasn’t two days later that Joe was taken with the intention of leading Barry away from the school, where Caitlin, Cisco, Ronnie, and Wells were waiting, researching a way to stop Leonard.  _

 

_ They didn’t expect the attack. It was broad daylight. But Leonard was nothing if not smart and determined. He used the sewers to sneak inside. They hadn’t been ready for it when he busted inside the library. Wells ran for the weapons cabinet, but Leonard immediately made a beeline for Caitlin. She was the danger to him--the only one who could cast the curse that would restore his soul.  _

 

_ Ronnie got in the way. And Ronnie paid for it with his life.  _

 

_ That’s when Killer Frost was unleashed, bent on freezing the world, just like her heart.  _

 

_ Barry tried to stop her. But he was weak and tired, and Caitlin was the strongest witch in a hundred years. She froze him to the ground almost effortlessly.  _

 

_ He couldn’t stop her. But that didn’t stop Cisco. _

 

_ “Move out of the way, Cisco.” She growled, but he stood his ground. _

__

_ “No, I won’t. Caitlin—” _

__

_ “THAT’S NOT MY NAME!” Frost argued, but Cisco ignored her. _

__

_ “Cait…you’re my best friend. You and Ronnie—I’ve known you both since kindergarten. I helped set the two of you up. I was going to be the best man-slash-man of honor at your wedding.” _

__

_ Frost scoffed. “Is this your plan, Slayer?” she asked, turning away from her friend to where Barry was still sprawled out on the ground. “Bore me to death with declarations of love? Defrost my cold heart?” _

__

_ Barry couldn’t answer, the spell she’d thrown him with still freezing him in place, but Cisco took another step forward. “This has nothing to do with him. This is about you and me, right here, right now. _

__

_ Frost’s head whipped back to him. He was barely able to duck in time to avoid an ice shot to his head. “You can’t stop me, Cisco,” she growled. “This world will freeze, just like me. And no one, not even you, is going to stand in my way.” _

__

_ Cisco shook his head. “I’m not trying to stop you, Cait.” Killer Frost paused in surprise. “I’m here because I know that, no matter what happens, you’re going to do what you think is right. And if that means destroying the world, then hey, I’ve had a pretty rad life. There are worse ways to go than freezing alive. Burning alive, for example.” _

__

_ “This isn’t a joke!” Frost roared. _

__

_ “I’m not joking.” Cisco took another step forwards, and Frost raised a hand. “If the world is ending, there’s no place I’d rather be than right here, right now, with my best friend. The same girl who cried when she accidentally stepped on a ladybug in the first grade because the Hippocratic Oath says that doctors should do no harm, and then made us hold a funeral for it.” _

__

_ Frost hesitated, and Cisco stepped forward again. “Caitlin Snow, I love you.” _

__

_ Fury filled her eyes, and a bolt of ice shot straight into Cisco’s shoulder. But he didn’t stop. “I love you.” _

__

_ “No!” She fired again, this time hitting his thigh, but Cisco continued towards her. “I love you more than anyone.” _

__

_ She hit him in the side. “Stop it!” _

__

_ “I love you.” _

__

_ She tried to fire again, but her powers just flickered. Barry could see the indecision, the inner turmoil in her eyes, and Cisco just kept on. “I love you, Caitlin. And if that means you need to kill me, then kill me. I deserve that much.” _

__

_ Barry noticed a tear falling down Frost’s cheek, and when Cisco was close enough, she lashed out with her fists. Cisco just let her beat against his chest, wrapping around her like he could shield her from all of the darkness in the world. The magic holding Barry faltered, melting away as Caitlin collapsed into Cisco’s arms, her white hair turning back to red, and sobbed. _

__

_ I did this, Barry thought, unable to do anything but watch Cisco comfort her. This is all my fault. _

  
  


Barry sat up with a scream. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know that he’d been asleep for less than two hours. That was about as much sleep as he got nowadays. Usually, he’d go patrolling. Now, though, he just laid back on the bed. 

Wells got fired not long after the Killer Frost incident. The Watcher’s Council believed that he’d put her over his duty as Watcher by not putting her down immediately. Barry suspected that maybe there was more than just professional respect towards Caitlin to thank for that, but it didn’t matter. Caitlin grieved, Wells left his job, and Cisco told Barry that he should’ve died with Leonard. 

 

More often than not, Barry agreed with him. 

 

He grabbed his earbuds off his bedside table and plugged them into his phone, deciding to listen to some music. Maybe it would lull him to sleep. Maybe he wouldn’t wake up. 

 

He sighed and closed his eyes. 

 

\----------

 

The first part of the school day passed uneventfully. Cisco avoided him like the plague. Jay made plans to meet after school and train. Iris pretended like everything was hunky-dory. 

 

Just like every day. Until last period came along. Mrs. Devoe, their new physics teacher since Wells quit, was reviewing... _ something _ on the board. Usually, Barry loved science and would be hanging on every word. Lately, though, it was like every thought was slush and it was a struggle to push through. His sleepless nights didn’t help. He leaned his head on one hand, forcing his eyes to stay open. 

 

_ Sleep…  _ he heard a soothing voice whisper, his eyes slipping closed.  _ Sleep, Slayer...sleep… _

 

He jerked awake, only to find that everyone else were resting their heads on their own desks, their eyes shut in peaceful sleep, including Mrs. Devoe. He frowned. What the hell--?

 

“Hello, Slayer.”

 

He jumped to his feet and turned towards the voice. Standing at the back of the classroom, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest was a beautiful, blonde woman in all black leather. She radiated danger, and Barry tensed, ready for a fight. 

 

The woman snickered. “No need for that. I’m not here for a fight. Not that you would win anyway.” She glided up to him and stroked a finger along his cheek. “Look at you--barely hanging on by a thread. I could kill you now as you slept and I almost think you’d be grateful.”

 

Barry flinched away with a sneer. “Who are you, and what do you want?” 

 

A dark smirk grew on the woman’s painted black lips. “I go by many names, though most call me a siren... _ Black _ Siren. As for what I want…” she pushed past him and strolled up to the desk where Mrs. Devoe was sleeping, “well, I thought that was clear. My job is to wear you down. Make you weak for my master’s ascension.” 

 

Barry frowned. “And who is your ‘master’?”

 

Siren laughed. “You’ve never heard of him. You won’t find him in any Watcher book or Slayer texts. No, he’s a figure of whispers. Those who lurk in the dark fear him and scurry at his name.”

 

“Which is?”

 

Black Siren tilted her head and looked him over. “I suppose you’ll find out soon enough. Go to your Watcher. Search your books. Search everywhere, because you’ll never see Zolomon coming until it’s too late for you.” 

 

Zolomon. Barry made a note in his brain. “Why would you tell me all of this?”

 

“Because my master wishes it,” Siren explained. “He’s not hunting you. He knows who you are, where you are, who you’re close to,” her eyes darted to Cisco and Iris’ sleeping figures, “and he knows your every weakness. Most importantly, he knows that, when the time is right, you’ll go to him and offer what he wants. He’s even willing to give you a fighting chance when the time comes.”

 

Barry had more questions, but it was clear Black Siren was done with him. Firmly planting her foot, she took a deep breath and screamed. 

 

The most high pitched screech he’d ever heard hit him full force, and he was knocked back. 

  
  


Barry shot up from his desk, screaming and covering his ears. Mrs. Devoe turned away from the board. The rest of his classmates turned to him. It was a dream. Black Siren was giving him nightmares, trying to wear him down. He lowered his hands from his ears and realized he was shaking. When he turned over his palms, he saw there was blood from his ears. 

 

It had been real. 

 

Iris rose from her seat and hurried to his side. “Mrs. Devoe…?”

 

The teacher nodded. “Yes, yes, take him to the nurse.”

 

As Iris herded him out of the room, he risked a look back at Cisco. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve said his once-best friend was worried and scared. 

 

\----------

“You said ‘ _ Zolomon _ ’?” 

 

Barry nodded. Caitlin was looking him over, making sure his eardrums weren’t busted or damaged, as Barry went over his encounter with Black Siren. Jay was pacing, adjusting his glasses every few seconds. 

 

“I’ve never heard of a demon by that name, though I’ve heard of some higher level demons employing powerful, lower level demons like Black Siren to do their bidding. I’ll check through the books, but…”

 

“You think she’s telling the truth,” Barry finished for him. “You think that the Watchers don’t know about him.”

 

Caitlin froze. “That’s impossible, isn’t it? I thought the Watchers were the keepers of all supernatural knowledge.”   
  


Jay shrugged. “That doesn’t mean their perfect. They only know what they’ve found or heard. If this ‘Zolomon’ is scary enough to keep mouths shut, it’s entirely possible that the Watchers have never heard of him.”

 

“He has to have a pretty tight-knit circle, then.” Barry nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around to see Cisco waiting by the door, looking everywhere but at him. He hadn’t even heard him come inside. “Demons like to run their mouths. He’s got to have a small number of pretty loyal guys.”

 

Jay nodded in agreement. “Which will make finding a demon willing to talk about him near impossible.”

 

Barry furrowed his brow in thought. Usually, when he needed demon info, he went to Saints and Sinners. It was the place for demons and vamps, and when they got drinking, they liked to run their mouths. If Zolomon was as scary as they thought, though, the demons wouldn’t be intimidated by Barry enough to spill the beans on him. Unless…

 

He jumped to his feet, almost throwing Caitlin off hers. “Barry, where are you going?” 

 

He grabbed his coat--his Slayer coat--and threw it on. “I think I know who to talk to about this. A demon that might tell me something.”

 

Without any more explanation, he headed out the door.

 

\----------

 

When Barry stepped through the door of Saints, all eyes turned to him. Almost every vamp and demon in town recognized him by this point. They were all tensing, posturing, ready for a fight to break out and to get their chance at the Slayer. 

 

All but one.

 

Mick Rory was behind the bar, pouring a beer and drinking. Always drinking. Like everyone else, he was watching Barry, but instead of preparing for a fight, he was undressing him with his eyes. Barry shivered but made his way down to him anyway. 

 

“You have a job?”

 

Mick shrugged. “Vampires got bills, too. At least this way, I can drink as much alcohol as I want without paying for it.”

 

As though to make a point, he poured a shot of whiskey and threw it back. Barry frowned. “You can’t get drunk, and there’s no way that tastes good.”

 

“Burn does,” Mick corrected. He pulled out another shot glass and filled it, sliding it to him. “You gonna stand there, or you gonna drink?”

 

Barry rolled his eyes and picked up the glass. He was going to need it anyway if he was going to deal with Mick. He downed it, only barely stopping himself from coughing. It was like drinking rubbing alcohol, but somehow worse. 

 

Mick smirked. “So, what brings you down here? Lookin’ for some relief?”

 

“No.”

 

Mick almost looked disappointed. Barry sighed and leaned closer. “I need your help.”

 

The vampire leaned across the bar with a raised eyebrow. “Do you, now?”

 

Barry glanced behind him, where several vamps and demons were watching them with interest. “Is there somewhere more private we can talk?”

 

Mick snorted but nodded. He whistled down the bar at the other bartender, who gave him a nod. “Follow me.” He walked out towards the back hall where Barry always assumed the bathrooms were. At the end of the hall was a rickety stairwell. Against his best judgement, Barry climbed up.

 

When they reached the top, Mick unlocked the wooden door, which opened into a piece of crap studio apartment.

 

Barry followed him inside. “This is where you’ve been living?”

  
Mick shrugged. “Belonged to Lenny. Darlene—the bartender—said that I could have it since he was my sire.” He fell back on the old, beat up couch set against the wall. “So, you don’t want to fuck. What do you want?”

 

Barry crossed the room to stand in front of the vampire, unwilling to let his guard down around him again. “What do you know about something called Zolomon?”

 

Mick shrugged. “I might know something. What’s in it for me if I tell?” His eyes flickered down Barry’s body.

 

He resisted the urge to shiver and rolled his eyes. “Not that.” He shifted nervously. “What do you want?”

 

A smirk pulled at the edge of the vampire’s lips. “Blood. Your blood.”

 

Okay, Barry had not expected that.

 

“I only got a little taste last time, in that alley. I want a little more—no draining or anything. Just a taste.”

 

Barry sighed. If it was the only way… “Fine. Deal.”

 

Mick’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his seat. “Damn. If I knew it was that easy, I’dda asked for more.”

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me about Zolomon, or is this a waste of my time?”

 

“Feisty today,” Mick chuckled. “Fine. It’s not a what. It’s a who—Hunter Zolomon. He was some cult leader a couple’s hundred years ago. Thought that he could find a spell or something that could make him all powerful. There were rumors that he’d tried to make himself immortal—without becoming a vamp, using spells and shit, but it’s impossible. The moron’s dead by now.”

A curious expression crossed his face, and he leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “Why do you ask?”

Barry stiffened. There was no reason to trust Mick with his source, no matter how staked they were. What if he was a part of whatever all this was? What if this was his way of getting his revenge?

Except, Mick Rory wasn’t a long game type of vampire. He killed you, or he didn’t kill you. Sometimes he played with his food, but his prey always knew exactly what they were. He clenched his fists. “Vamp I dusted. Why does it matter?”

“Heard some demons in the bar mention Zolomon a few days ago. Overheard a few things.”

Barry gasped. “What?” he asked, more eager than he wished he’d been. “What did they say?”

Mick tilted his head. “That wasn’t part of our deal. You wanted to know who Zolomon was. I told you. Anything else is extra.”

Barry cursed. Mick Rory was the most infuriating…

 

His fingers twitched for the military knife tucked into the back of his pants. “What. Did. You. Hear?”

 

“What are you willing to give me?” Mick shot back smugly.

“You’ll actually be able to walk out of here.” Usually, Barry didn’t resort to threats, but at this point, it felt like the only way. Mick laughed deep.  

“That so?”

It happened fast. Mick jumped up from his seat, and Barry drew his knife. But before he could attack the vamp, Mick was grabbing the wrist with the knife, using his other arm to grab the front of Barry’s jacket and pull him in so they were pressed against each other. Even if Barry were to get his hand free, he couldn’t aim for Mick’s heart.

He swallowed hard when Mick’s cheek brushed against his as he leaned forward to whisper in the Slayer’s ear. “I don’t take threats well.”

 

Barry cried out as Mick bent his wrist backward, just enough for his grip on the knife to loosen. 

 

The sound of the weapon clattering to the floor echoed through the small apartment.  

Barry tried to headbutt him, knee him, bite him. But all it did was make the vampire laugh. 

 

“There you are,” he breathed into Barry’s ear. “There’s the Slayer I fucked in that alley. I almost thought I made it up.”

Barry struggled again, but Mick ignored it, instead focusing on the skin of Barry’s neck. “There’s a fire behind your eyes. A monster living inside of you, fighting to get free. Other than that alley, I’ve only ever seen it when you’re about to kill something.”

“Let go of me,” Barry hissed, but Mick ignored him.

“I get it, too,” he continued, his mouth skimming down Barry’s neck. “That thrumming right under the skin. The fire in your soul roaring to be let out.”

Barry’s stomach twisted. “I am nothing like you. I don’t enjoy killing. Whatever you think you saw, you imagined.”

Mick hummed and, before Barry knew it, their lips were together. It was just as wild and raw as it was in the alleyway. Barry’s hand that wasn’t being restrained clawed at Mick’s neck, trying to both pull him closer and push him away. He moaned and gasped into the vampire’s mouth.

Suddenly, Mick pulled back, and Barry only had a split second to think before he was scooped into Mick’s arms and thrown onto the couch. He panted heavily as the vampire ripped his own shirt off and crawled on top of him. Unlike the last time the vampire put him in a similar position, his hands were free beside his head; the only thing holding him down was the hand on his chest and the lustful glare in Mick’s eye.

“Imagining it?” he growled ferociously. “No, you’re pretending. I’ll show you that fire.”

 

The vampire attacked his lips, violently and passionately. Barry’s hands immediately flew up to grip at his exposed skin.

 

After that, everything happened in a blur.

Somehow, they ended up on the floor, Mick sprawled over the now-busted up coffee table—Barry wasn’t sure, but he may have thrown him into it at some point—with Barry straddling his waist, both stripped down to nothing, moaning and writhing as they grabbed at each other.

 

When Barry took Mick in him, the vampire clawed at his hips, leaving deep, red scratches in his skin. Barry threw his head back in ecstasy. Just like last time, the pain was  _ amazing _ . He rode Mick hard, his nails digging hard enough into the vampire’s chest to draw blood.

 

He didn’t know why this kept happening—why he felt so drawn to Mick, but it was like a drug. 

 

He couldn’t stop. It was so good,  _ too  _ good.

 

He gasped when Mick thrust up into him, striking him at just the right place that he saw sparkles in his eyes. “Oh, God…” he groaned as the vampire, smug smile on his face, thrust up even harder. Gripping Barry’s hips hard enough to bruise, Mick started thrusting up relentlessly, and 

Barry screamed.

 

Suddenly, he was on his back on the other side of the broken coffee table, and Mick was fucking him into the stained carpeted floor. “Mick…” He heard himself moaning,  _ begging _ . “Mick, please…Fuck me…touch me…god…”

 

The vampire chuckled, pressing his face into Barry’s neck. “And there’s the little slut coming through. I missed hearing you whimper and beg for my cock. That beast inside you, fighting to be free.”

 

He licked up the side of Barry’s neck and sunk his fangs into the soft flesh. He drank longer than he had in that alley, sending a pleasurable, tingling sensation to Barry’s extremities. After about a minute, the burning from the bite stopped, and Mick raised his head. His fangs were gone, but his lips and mouth were still stained red from his blood. On most occasions, Barry would’ve found it disgusting; now, though, it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

 

“I wonder what it would be like to just see you let go, give in to the beast,” the vampire chuckled, delivering another powerful thrust.

 

If he were thinking straight, he would’ve kicked Mick off of him at that point, sex or no sex. He wasn’t a beast. He  _ wasn’t  _ like Mick. But his mind was hazed by the mix of pain and pleasure thrumming through his body, and all he could do was let go.

 

He came with Mick’s name on his lips, and the vampire followed not long after. Absently, he felt the carpet burn from being jerked across it on his back and ass, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Mick collapsed beside him, face content and chest heaving, and Barry dared to glance over at him.

 

He wasn’t an unattractive man, when he wasn’t trying to murder Barry. He was more rugged than Len was, his jaw harder, his body  _ definitely  _ more muscular—not that Len didn’t look nice with his shirt off, but he had nothing on Mick—and Barry found himself wishing that things could be different.

 

_ Maybe,  _ he considered,  _ if we just lay here, I can pretend that things are. _

 

But then, his phone rang from his jeans, which were thrown over the back of the couch. With a sigh, he climbed, flinching, to his feet, ignoring the grossness he felt between his thighs. He knew Mick was watching as he bent across the couch to pull his phone out of his pocket. Jay’s name flashed on the screen.

 

_ Barry—meet me at the library. 911. _

 

He sighed. “I’ve gotta go.”

 

When he turned back to grab his clothes, now scattered around the room, he saw Mick eying him, still shamelessly nude, like he was ready for another round. He chuckled deeply as Barry stumbled to pull on his jeans.

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “What?”

 

Mick shrugged. “Just funny how quickly you run to them. You go from beast to watchdog so fast, I’m surprised you can keep them straight in your head.”

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “I’m not a beast,” he muttered, searching the floor for his shirt. “And I’m not a watchdog. I’m the Slayer. It’s my job.”

 

Now it was Mick’s turn to roll his eyes. The vampire stood up slowly, eyes still locked on Barry.  “Remember when you asked about killing Slayers?”

 

Not knowing where this was heading, Barry nodded. Mick strolled towards him. “There’s a reason you’re still around. Despite begging for danger—” He stopped when he was about a foot away and winked, “not that I’m complaining about that—you don’t actually  _ want  _ to die. All Slayers have a death wish, and if the way you throw yourself into bed with vamps who want to kill you is any sign, you ain’t no different. But, whether you know it or not, you have something to live for. That’s why you haven’t gone all kamikaze yet. But it’s also why you hold back.”

 

He stepped closer into Barry’s space, and the Slayer found himself backing up. There was a hungry look in Mick’s eye that made Barry unsure what he was going to do. His foot caught on the cord of a floor lamp, and Barry stumbled back against the wall. Mick closed in until they were practically breathing the same air.

 

“You could be dangerous,” the vampire continued, his voice low and gravely. “You could be the deadliest thing that world has ever seen if you’d just let it all go. Release that monster clawing under your skin.” He reached up eerily slow, making Barry pant and shake in anticipation. How pathetic was it that he  _ wanted  _ Mick to do something, to touch him, to have him again.

 

He was a little disappointed when the vampire grabbed something draped over the top of the floor lamp— _ Barry’s shirt _ —and smirked.

 

Blushing, Barry snatched his shirt. “I’m  _ not  _ a monster.” 

 

Mick shook his head. “Ain’t nothing wrong with having a dark side. That’s what it’s gonna take to get rid of something like Zolomon. Cuz let me tell you--two hundred years ago, Lenny and I were in France together. We were attacked by someone in a hood and about half a dozen demons. They were planning on draining us for our ‘demonic energy’ or some shit. Almost had us, too, but they didn’t expect me to be batshit crazy. It’s the only reason we got away from him that day. And that beast inside’a you is the only thing that’s gonna keep you alive, too.”

 

Barry’s eyes widened, and Mick stepped away. “You know where to find me if you change your mind about fucking again.” He looked back over his shoulder and winked. “Promise I won’t kill ya in the sack.”

 

Even though he knew Mick was telling the truth, that didn’t comfort Barry at all. He threw his shirt on and headed out the door, not even looking back at the vampire. He had what he came for. If he limped a bit on the way out, and if he felt lighter than he had in awhile, well, no one else needed to know. 


End file.
